


But Nonetheless You

by SallyB



Category: Korean Actor RPF, 태양은 없다 | City of the Rising Sun (1998)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bodyswap, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, too many angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27325687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallyB/pseuds/SallyB
Summary: Goodnight, was the last word Jung Woosung heard from the man in his arms before he woke up in a shitty room with one eye swollen shut and a stranger sleeping next to him.Meanwhile, fuck you, was the last word Lee Dochul said to his boyfriend, no— scratch that, to that fucker before he woke up on the softest duvet in a large room with the beautiful view of Seoul outside of the window.A body swap fic where you swap not only your body but everything you know with the character you played 20 years ago, the alternate universe theory as summarized by Woosung himself.
Relationships: Do Chul/Hong Gi (City of the Rising Sun), Jung Woo Sung/Lee Jung Jae
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. Woosung

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raiya/gifts).



> After all of those gifts I feel like I need to conjure one for you too, can't be a receiver alone :D
> 
> This is a fic about body swapping between Woosung and Dochul, with Woosung ended up in Dochul's body and Dochul in Woosung;s. What are they going to do with it and what will be Jungjae and Honggi's reaction, and most importantly, will they find the way back you their real selves? I fear they will have to learn a thing or two first.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for any mistake, English is not my strongest suit. ; )

Goodnight.

That was the last word he heard from Jungjae before Woosung finds himself in the most peculiar dream he ever had, one second he was holding his boyfriend against his chest and then an eternity later he found himself lying facedown on a hard mattress, skin wet with sweat and a warm body next to him.

Woosung blinks once, feeling his eyelids move slowly and felt the pain spark in his right eye and spread over the right side of his head. He cried out loudly, hand searching blindly for Jungjae.

Luckily his startled voice wakes the man next to him.

“Dochul-ah” He hears Jungjae’s deep voice calling out tiredly, “Is it getting worse again? Do you need a balm?”

And without thinking he groaned out, “Who the hell is Dochul?” before another wave of agony ripples through his head and strangles out another loud cry from him.

“Ya--, lower your voice for once, dumbass. Did you forget that mr. Oh next door really hates our guts?”

Through his pain and everything Woosung still notices a thing or two. First of all Jungjae never called him name, his boyfriend was all polite and sweet, he has all the rights to be so shocked that he nearly misses another thing: who the fuck is mr. Oh?

Well, that mysterious mr. Oh can wait, “Jagiya,” he groaned, “...call an ambulance…”

Jungjae goes silent.

“Oh fuck,” He hears Jungjae breath, “fuck, is it a concussion? Dochul-ah, you’ve never got this worse what the—“

That’s the point where Woosung can’t stand it anymore so he pushes his hands on the harder than usual mattress. His head feels like a slab of meat that has been beaten by 10 hammers for hours, it’s hard to hold his head up, but at least he will be able to make Jungjae see how urgent his state is now. However, he can’t help but feel angry that his Jungjae still sits there watching him and still making a joke.

What the actual fuck is WRONG with Jungjae? Is this a prank? Is this one of Jungjae’s pranks that goes too far at times? 

_Gosh, you know how much I love you _, Woosung grits his teeth, _but isn’t this joke getting too far Jungjae-ssi? _____

_____ _

_____ _

Oh he is going to ask that when he can open his eyes properly and take a look at Jungjae’s zero effort in suppressing his wicked grin. Woosung manages to lean his back on the wall behind-- wait, the wall? He forced his eyes open, just a slither, and every thought and question inside of his head disappeared completely.

It is Jungjae, it really is HIS Jungjae, there is no way for him to forget those big eyes, pink lips, large ears, and clear skin of the other. How can he forget the first face he sees in the morning and the last face he sees in the night almost everyday for the past decade? Yet the Jungjae he knows wouldn’t make a bored face like that while his significant other is dying of a concussion, and he definitely wouldn’t wear a wifebeater to bed.

And his hair is definitely not this short.

Just that he forgets all of the pain and his eyes widens to look at the sight before him. The man in front of him has the same features like Jungjae’s but he must be at least 2 decades younger than him. Oh he really looks like Jungjae-ssi in his debut movie, 

Woosung suddenly feels like he can’t bear this fellow’s bored expression anymore so he turns his head to take a look at the ‘wall’ behind him, it should be a wooden headboard that supports his back for now, not this hard, cold touch of cement. 

It is then that he realizes that the room is not theirs, definitely not their bedroom on the fifteenth floor of the building in Samsongdong. This room is too small, this bed is too small, this window is too small, everything is too small, and everything seems wrong, _oh so wrong. ___

____

____

“What the—“ He breathes. Though very quiet, he could make out that his voice -- though soft-- was not exactly the same.

He looked down at his body, he was wearing a tank top and a boxer, not a wrinkle to be found upon his arm though the scars from his youth are still there, his breaths shorten, litanies of confusion now spewed out of his mouth.

“No, no, what the fuck, no…AHHHH” He winces out loud when he touches his face and a finger accidently prods against his swollen right eye, fuck that shit hurts a lot.

“Dochul-ah” Not his Jungjae cries out exasperatedly —again, “stop doing that, what has gotten into you?”

“Jungjae” Woosung cries, having no idea why he still calls the other man his boyfriend’s name when it is clear as day that this guy is not, “what is happening?” he asks, “Why am I like this? Why are you like that?”

Not his Jungjae looks at him with an annoyed face before huffing out a dry laugh,

“Who the hell is this Jungjae?”  
.  
.  
.  
“Jagiya--” Woosung is trying his best not to make it sound harsher than he should, “I’m serious, what’s happening?”

Not his Jungjae rolls his eyes dramatically, the man kicks the thin duvet off his legs before lying down on the other side of the bed. It is too small, and their distance is just a hand away.

“First thing first,” he pulls a piece of gum out of his boxer pocket, “stop Jagiya’d me and take a deep breath. I don’t know where you have been in your sweet dream, Dochul-ah, but I need one for myself before heading out to work at 7”

Woosung shakes his head at the offered gum before another realization hits him hard that it nearly throws him out on the floor.

“What did you call me?” 

Not his Jungjae put the declined gum in his mouth, “Why, god,” he snickers, “so good you even forgot your own name. Lee Dochul, you dumbass, it’s Lee Dochul”

Not Lee Dochul does jump out of bed this time, hitting his legs at the tower of pizza boxes and sending it crash down over god knows what. He knows his head is about to blow out in thousands pieces but he won’t go back to that bed again, Woosung has to support his head with his own hand and will himself to take a good look at none other than Jo Honggi.

“So you--” _please tell me it’s not true, please tell me it’s not him _, “you are Jo Honggi?”__

____

__

“Bingo!” Jo Honggi says it with the most irritated face ever, “wow I’m glad that you still remember mine while forgetting yours, very honored.”

Woosung feels like he’s going to faint.

“But why am I here? How can I? No, no, I can’t stay here.”

“Yes, you can’t stand there the whole night come back to bed at once for fuck’s sake.”

How is it possible? How could any of this happen? Why is Jo Honggi here? He can’t be real right? He’s a character, the character he helped Jungjae write about 20 years ago…

“You can’t be real,” he blurts out. 

“I’m too tired to think of a witty comeback for that,” Honggi’s voice is tired but Woosung notices the heat building up behind his smile, “you want an apology? you get one, dickhead, I AM SORRY, alright!? Now get back here!”

Woosung is sure he’s gonna faint, this is not his imagination this is like watching City of Rising Sun again, it’s like watching young Jungjae in character practicing his part in their break. Jungjae made everyone believe in every act, in every word, that he was no smiley youth actor but a lowly, stupid street thug and right now Jo Honggi here is exactly what Jungjae would play if the script told him to lose his temper in the middle of the night.

A loud bang rang across the room from the other side of the wall behind him, Woosung doesn’t even flinch, the knocks from the angry neighbor has nothing like the shock he has at this moment.

Honggi doesn’t flinch either, the man grumbles about that grumpy old man again before turning his back to Woosung.

“And I’m not gonna pick that stack for you” he means the stack of pizza boxes he sent down on the floor a moment ago, “clean it yourself.”

The inside of this room gets darker and darker with every breath he takes, and finally the peripheral of his view is tinged with shadow by the time Honggi finishes his tirade. Woosung tries to breath once, twice, before falling down on the floor, two paces away from bed.

He hears a loud thud, Honggi’s voice calling out Dochul’s name, all the time he has but one question in his head: 

Will he ever wake up from this nightmare?

.  
.  
.


	2. Dochul

Fuck you.

That was the last thing Lee Dochul said to his boyfriend, no, not exactly a boyfriend, he snickers when he remembers that his right eye is now swelling because of the can of beer Honggi threw at him last night. That fucker might be weaker compared to a boxer like him, but that little shit scored a bullseye in one throw. That motherfucker.

Yes, that motherfucker. It was bad enough to sleep with a swollen eye but it is way far worse when the smug face of the preparator is the first thing he thinks of in the morning. _Get out of my head Jo Honggi or else I gonna kick your ass out myself. ___

____

__

However, the world must be kind enough for him that he manages to get himself a best dream ever. He nuzzles his face deep down in the softest surface he ever laid his head upon, it is soft and it smells soooooo fuckin good, he inhales the clean, sweet scent once, and before he could stops himself, he dives in to inhale it again and again.

_He might be a shithead _, thinks Dochul, _but Honggi really knows how to wash a duvet. _____

_____ _

_____ _

His train of thought is abruptly halted when a hand touches the back of his head, softly and gently, and Dochul freezes that instant because fuck no did Honggi see it ?

“Wake up, jagiya,” He hears a deep voice say, “You have places to go, don’t you? ahjussi” 

That voice sounds nice enough to concrete Dochul’s belief that it is a dream. _I take my word back _, he exhales, Honggi doesn’t know how to wash a suit properly let alone a duvet.__

____

____

This, Dochul hates to admit it, can be nothing but a dream.

And with that he groans and buries his face deeper into it, ignoring the hand completely.

The owner of that handsome voice doesn’t let him.

“Oh no, you are so not going to do that,” a weight dips down on a duvet right next to him, “I have to go out at 8 and I want to have morning coffee with you first…”

The last syllable is dragged out in what Dochul would call it ‘pouting’, he lets out a laugh because he couldn’t imagine a man with such a deep voice pouting like a boy at all.

“Ya- I saw you giggling there ahjussi” The man cries and the duvet next to his head dips down too, warm breaths ghosting upon his nape before the hand comes brushing up and down his head slowly.

It really feels so good, Dochul wisheS he could hold on to this heaven a little longer before he would wake up again next to that stupid punk. He takes in a deep breath, intentionally pushing his head back to that large palm that is caressing his hair.

“Woosung-ssi...you have a shooting today, better wake up and get ready, old man.”

Dochul tunes out the name Woosung out of his head as well as the rest of the sentence, this is a dream, though a very strange one indeed.

“A minute then…” He thinks he can at least talk back in a dream, normally he rarely stays in bed longer than he should. A boxer’s life is full of rigorous schedule and strict coaches breathing down his neck, this man sounds kind enough he won’t even raise a voice to him.

Except he brings the same hand down against his shoulder, (the one he fell hard on when his opponent threw him in the ring two days ago), and Dochul lets out a loud yelp just to feel nothing at all but a little sting. 

“There you are,” The man sighs, “you just have to make me use my last resort you know, come on,” he emphasizes with another slap on his back before he pushes himself back to sitting. 

Dochul does what he has said, albeit quite dazed to do so, he uses one hand to support himself on the duvet and opens his eyes to take a good look at his dream.

A good dream indeed, he feels that though the room is cold it’s far from the word freezing, the white duvet is soft and the large window at the far end of the room shows him the morning sky of Seoul perfectly. 

Oh this could be nothing but a dream, the young man sighs, for he would never ever see this sight before him again in this life, what a large brain he had in order to imagine such a beautiful scene like this in the middle of his sleep.

A warm hand came to rest on his head again, the same warm hand that Dochul starts to take a liking to and he gladly turns his face to nuzzle into it. He never knew he could be fine with a head rub like this before.

A kiss on his forehead and Dochul half asleep mind is brought back to awakening that instant.

The man doesn’t only have the most distinctive voice and the warmest hand but also the sweetest smile he has ever seen, large eyes looking back at him with such adoration he couldn’t believe that it is meant for him-- and when he laughs... boy, it sounds like the sincerest laugh.

“Jagiya--” The man calls him sweetheart again, “you look like you are seeing a ghost!”

Dochul shakes his head, no not a ghost, he feels his cheeks getting warmer when the man tilts his face closer and closer until he can smell a clean odor from his body. He has no idea who this man is but he is utterly gorgeous —unquestioningly beautiful.

No, not a ghost, he corrects himself.

An angel.

Grey hair and wrinkles at the end of his eyes can not mar his beauty. He wonders, would one have enough strength not to fall in love with this man at the first sight back in his youthful days ?

His mind wanders astray, he imagines a smooth skin and shorter, darker hair on this face, he moves his gaze downward, toned arms and small waist that couldn’t be hidden under a baggy t-shirt a size bigger than him remind Dochul vaguely of someone he hates just to spell a name.

“Who are you?” So he asks for a name instead.

The angel laughs again, “Ahjussi, I really want to play along with you here but the world cannot wait to see you in rolled up black shirts or three pieces suits, your fans will be deeply disappointed!”

Dochul blinks because he has expected an answer, a name, not the gentlest motivational speech to work he ever received.

But first thing first.

“You must be mistaken, ahjussi” He feels a need to mention this word, “I don’t have a shooting to do, and I am younger than you, mister.” _but that doesn’t mean you any harm ahjussi you’re still fly as fuck, _the last part left unsaid.__

____

__

____

__

The gentle ahjussi looks into his eyes, at first he still gives him that breathtaking expression and then just a blink later he is watching Dochul with the very familiar squared eyes and bored expression instead.

“Woosungssi, this is not like you at all being this nonsense from the very start of the day,” gone with all the sweetness, one wrong word and the angel has turned into someone who means business and has no room for joke at all, “either you get up now and come to the kitchen to get ready or you lie on the bed as long as you want and let your poor manager handle the editor’s wrath, that’s all your choice”

Something strikes Dochul out of nowhere, maybe it was a whiplash of personality or it was the name that did not belong to him, Dochul has no idea, one thing he can be certain of is the face of someone he knows too well in the place of this beautiful’s man.

Jo—fucking—Honggi’s.

“Honggi?” He whispers in disbelief, watching the man’s eyes turn from annoyed to confused while he himself has to calm his beating heart. “Honggi-ya, is that you?”

Older and prettier Honggi abruptly stands and yes that lithe waist and those large white hands can belong to no one but that motherfucker who even follows him down to the best dream he has in years. Older and prettier Honggi makes a leeway to the bed stand and snatches up a square item, he pushes his digit on it repeatedly before putting it back to his cheek, all the while staring back at Dochul with his wide, dark eyes.

Dochul stares back, he watches the older Honggi speak to someone quietly and he realizes that it is a cellphone. Larger and more colorful, but nonetheless a cellphone.

Weird dream, he concludes, this is no longer the best dream he has in years. The weirdest maybe.

He manages to get out of the soft duvet and stand on his shaky legs, his eyes moving around to scan this large room that he could even call it a house before he sees it.

A mirror.

He walks straight to it, he is not dumb despite what his highschool teachers and boxing coaches had said, Lee Dochul is no idiot, he knows what this dreams is turning into. Taking a deep breath, he turns to face the reflection.

The image before his eyes will never get out of his head. 

How can he forget it? There is a man looking right back at him inside the mirror, a man who could be called handsome, a manly man with muscled arms and a hardened face.

A man with the same pretty lips like his, a man with the same round eyes looking into a mirror with sheer horror, and when he opens his mouth to let out a cry, the voice that came out of his throat is just a tad deeper, and though it is soft, it isn’t exactly the same.

“I will call you back, no, no, he’s not doing something stupid” the older Honggi speaks to someone at the end of the line, walking slowly to him as if he would startle Dochul “he’s just not his usual self..”

He can see the man came closer to him from the reflection. He watches the worriedness on the other’s face, wondering about this beautiful man and the owner of the body he’s wearing, who are they?

And are they together? Dochul knows from the very first touches that these two are lovers, there is no more suitable word for them but lovers, he can feel it from the older Honggi’s eyes and touches alone how affectionate they were before he realized that the Dochul here was no lover of him.

Where did this ‘Woosung’ go?

And where is Honggi?

So he turns to the older Honggi and catches his wrist before tugging the man closer to him, Dochul might be fit as a boxer but he clearly sees that this body carries more strength than he usually has because older Honggi nearly stumbled by the sheer force of him.

“Who are you?” He asks, using another hand to grab the other’s shoulder tightly, “who are you? where am I and why am I here?”

“Jagiya!” The older man cries, he tries to escape his grips but the size difference makes it impossible to do so, “Woosung-ssi, it’s me, don’t you remember me?”

“I am not Woosung” Dochul says firmly, he does relax his grips but just a little, the man still hasn’t answered his questions, “who are you?” he asks again.

Older Honggi’s face is so pale and his eyes show how distressed he is, Dochul shakes his head, they really looks alike but the Honggi he knows would rather die than let anyone see him wearing this expression, yes, even Lee Dochul is no exception.

“I’m Jungjae,” Older Honggi tells him his real name at last, “Lee Jungjae, your significant other, oh god Woosung what is happening to you--”

Older Honggi, or Lee Jungjae --the name that doesn’t ring any bell inside of his head-- is a mere inch away from crying so Dochul lets him go but Lee Jungjae still stands there, still trying to find out what really happened to his ‘significant other’.

“You-- you don’t remember me?” Although he has a very deep voice, the last word from his mouth sounds so small, “your Jaeri, oh, oh god no...please no…”

At first Dochul wants to run away from this place, to run back to his rented flat and look for Honggi, Honggi must have known by now that he had disappeared. 

But seeing the other man fall down to the floor with one hand clasped over his mouth, a silent cry wracked around this too vast room hauntingly, Dochul feels a pang of guilt in his heart and finds himself sitting down on the floor in front of him.

“Hey, hey” he tries to call the older man, “ahjussi, uh, Jungjae-ssi. I’m really sorry but I literally have no idea how all of this happened” _oh god is he going to fuck things up more worse? ___

____

__

Lee Jungjae-ssi just shakes his head at his words and Dochul is as lost as ever, he doesn’t know what to do but then he remembers how Jungjae woke him up with a palm over his messy head so he pushes his hand out to do the same. His right hand laid on Jungjae-ssi’s perfect locks and he nearly draws it back when the man lets out a muffled cry, he tries again and this time Lee Jungjae softens to his touch.

So Lee Dochul sits there in this weird bedroom where duvets smell better than the most expensive perfume sold in malls, comforting a man twice his age who sits there crying because the body he is in right now belongs to Woosung, his significant other, who now has disappeared to god knows where.

The sun rises higher upon the sky and the room is now engulfed with warm morning light, Dochul takes a deep breath, Honggi will wake up in an hour or so, he cannot stay here any longer.

“Uhm, Jungjae-ssi, my name is Lee Dochul, I’m a boxer living at Moondong flat in Cheongdam, I don’t know how any of this happens but please can I get back at my place for once ? I really need to see someone there.”

For a while he thinks Jungjae-ssi was too deep in his misery that he hadn’t heard a thing, but then Lee Jungjae lowers his hand and looks back at him.

“What are you saying?” The other man whispers.

“Look, I promise I will help you find your lover, it’s not like I want to stay in this body for-”

“No, I mean, what did you say your name is?”

Dochul looks back at the other’s face, seeing all the unreadable emotions just from his gazes alone.

“Lee Dochul, mister, I’m a boxer.”

“What--” Lee Jungjae’s mouth gapes open.

“I don’t understand anything too--”

“You motherfucker,” Lee Jungjae spits out. He rises up to his feet, eyes tinged with fear, with confusion, with disbelief, or even with anger, whatever it is Dochul cannot guess anymore. The only thing he is certain of is that he must have said something wrong again.

“This is the meanest joke you’ve ever made, Jagiya,” his voice is just a little bit louder than the calming sound of the air conditioner but it’s no less as chilling as the cold air on his bare skin, “you played him 20 years ago. If you want to test our friendship which is as old as that movie like this then suit yourself. I called Hyukjae and told him you're gonna take a day off, enjoy it then.”

And with that he walks out of the room, leaving Dochul there sitting dumbly on the floor, so confused he wants nothing but to follow Jungjae and ask for more explanation but at the same time so numbed he can’t lift even a finger. 

What the actual fuck was that man saying?

.  
.  
.


	3. Woosung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is harder to explain, a time-travel movie or an multiple universe one?

“So he is not dying soon, right?”

The young doctor spares them a glance, he looks bothered enough in the midst of an emergency ward on such a busy Monday morning. His finger still points at the top of the film on the luminated screen, “See this?” 

Honggi nods. Woosung, whose right eye is now covered with a cotton patch, nods too. He feels a bit more easier to focus on something without using both of his eyes, before waking up to the blazing light of the hospital, he couldn’t make out any details on anything.

The film shows the x-rayed skull of Lee Dochul, (Dochul’s, not mine, Woosung has to remind himself before realizing that, well, one could say that it’s the skull from his younger self.), the young doctor has explained it to both of them minutes ago but apparently it’s a bit difficult for Honggi to grasp the idea.

“There’s no fracture, no hemorrhage, he’s good. In the best condition a boxer like him can be.”

“Doctor, you don’t understand,” Honggi’s voice goes higher with his frustration, “he talked gibberish after waking up, how is that normal? He’s delirious!”

“He talked to me just fine.” The doctor shots right back before turning to him, “right? Lee Dochul-ssi?”

At the mention of his name (for now), Woosung nods, again, “I feel better now.” He thought Honggi would stop fussing for once but anything he said fell on deaf ears.

“Ya! You’re not like that hours ago! Doctor, he even forgot his own name!”

“It’s obvious that he remembers it now.”

Honggi doesn’t bother to hide his frustrated groan, the pretty nurse who brings a new file to the doctor gives them a weird look, her entrance signals the doctor to move on to the next patient and their exit leaves Woosung with a very annoyed Jo Honggi.

The sound of people, staff and patients alike, walking around cannot trample down Honggi’s exasperated sighs. He is wearing a white polo and dark pants while Woosung himself was still in the cloth Dochul wore to bed last night before all of this happened. The air between them has changed, it’s not anger and nuisance that Woosung feels, right now he doesn’t have a slightest clue of what to speak, everything at the tip of his tongue feels out of place, out of time —wrong.

But again, he doesn’t know about their relationship, he doesn’t know if this is normal, and Honggi is acting like…. Honggi.

“I’m fine now,” he breaks the awkward silence, somebody has to do it, “can we go home now?”

“As fuck you aren’t” Honggi grumbles, he’s still facing toward the door and not back at him.

“You have work to do…” Woosung points out.

“I can call in si-- YOU BASTARD WHAT are you doing?”

Woosung looks back at him confusedly, his hands grip the hospital bed’s rails tightly as his toes touch the cold floor below, “to get out of here?”

“Ya! Lee Dochul, you stubborn fuck, you stay where you are or else I will call the doctor.”

“He will call the security to get you out instead.” Woosung shrugged, the air is cold and his bare arms and legs are sizzling with chill, he turns to the younger man, “do you have any jacket?”

Honggi throws him a bundled up orange jacket that he had put on the chair nearby, “Even in that state you are still mouthy.” he snickers and Woosung dismisses it, he looks around for a pair of shoes, maybe there must be some outside the room.

“Ya!” Honggi cries when he makes his way to the door, a hand reaches out to touch his arm, Woosung can feel the barest of touch on the fabric before it disappears in a breath later, he turns, looking back at Honggi who now has both of his hands in his pockets instead, “just take more rest will you? We can go when those ladies chase us.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, alright, you are finer, better than before… but surely you can’t walk back to the flat like this.”

Walk? 

“You fainted,” the other answers as if he has seen the question from his eyes, “I call the ambulance.”

“Then we walk.”

“What? Dochul-ah! Stop being so stubborn.”

“Just give me those slippers,” Woosung points at the pink slipper hidden under the bed, he might feel better but the pain he gets when he angles his head is still unbearable. “We can walk from here right?”

“Yes, I mean no, we won’t walk back unless you take more rest.”

“We have to talk.” Woosung looks straight at the other man, “either we have that conversation here where we can be interrupted any time or we can have that on our walk back home, your choice.”

Honggi’s eyes widen, ‘conversation’ here is a heavy word, one he himself rarely uses even with Jungjae, it’s a promise of something serious and most of the time, it’s not a good news.

The younger man finally nods. His sigh, long and heavy rings across their little space in the occupied perdition, Honggi reaches out his leg under the bed to drag the slippers out with the tip of his shoe. His face shows resignation with a bit of uncertainty when he kicks the pink shoes to Woosung’s feet.

“Hope it’s something worth your upcoming headache then…” he says before leaving Woosung getting used to the soft sole of a pair of hospital slippers on his own.

—-

By the time they get to the street the sun is up already, it’s not a sunny day, nor is it a windy or a chilly one. Cold winds brush past them from the car driving nearby. A small number of pedestrians share the same path with them, no surprise, Woosung takes a look at the clock from the nearby shop as it’s almost half past 10 already. He takes a good look at their surroundings, most of the building has reverted back to their old forms, the lack of skyscrapers in the far west tell him that their owners would still be around here, working their hard earned money to raise those towering high rises in a decade to come. A pang of nostalgia hits him as he remembers how time has flown.

It feels just like yesterday that he had some Odens with Jungjae in the City of the Rising Sun set, huddled together in their makeshift bed and laughed their asses off with their jokes as if they had known each other for years. He remembers that he had looked at Jungjae’s smiling face, his eyes shut tight in a straight line, mouth opened wide showing all of his teeth, he looked so funny when he was laughing, but Woosung remembers that he had thought to himself, how fortunate one be to have this man as a friend forever.

Next to him, Honggi struts the street at the same pace, his face is another evidence of the passing of time, where it should be crows feet at the end of his eyes is now smooth though darkened with stress, where it should be laugh lines the sides of his mouth is now taut and gaunt as Honggi keeps on chewing his lips.

They still haven’t said a word and if it has to be someone’s duty to start said ‘conversation’, it should be none but him.

“We have to talk.”

He says quietly and the other man nods absentmindedly.

“We really have to, Honggi.”

“Just get on with it.”

Woosung breathes out, he has practiced the lines repeatedly all the way back from the hospital but still it’s too difficult to explain something unbelievable to someone.

“I’m not Lee Dochul.”

He started with the basic truth, he expects Honggi to burst out a laugh or send him an unimpressed stare (he expects the latter, Honggi is prone of brushing off things he dislikes with a laugh but the situation right now is far from the word dislike.) but Honggi just nods. 

“Thought so,” the shorter man mumbles.

Woosung turns to look at him, taken aback with the lack of emotion.

Honggi raises his eyebrow, not even bother to look at him before releasing an annoying huff, “You didn’t call me names for once since you woke up, that’s a telling.”

It’s Woosung’s turn to make a surprise face, “Are you two— are we—“ he has to stop talking, he brings his hand under his chin, rubbing it slowly while his head is looking for the best way to put the words together.

“You and me?” Honggi stops dead in his track, eyes looking back at him with such emptiness, “or Dochul and me?”

And that question nearly prompts Woosung to let loose everything, Dochul and Honggi, Jungjae and him, City of the Rising Sun and all, but he manages to rein himself in, swallowing back the truth that is stuck on the tip of his tongue.

“Did I hit you?” He answers with another question, “Did he hit you? My younger self?”

Honggi’s eyes widen at the implication, he stands still for a little while before takes a step closer to look at Woosung’s face.

“Your younger self?” He repeats, “Did you call him that?”

“Yes, but apart from calling you names, did he hurt you?”

Honggi shakes his head, now taking a little step back, letting out a smile in doing so.

“I can’t believe it,” he cries, “first you woke up talking nonsense in the middle of the night, now you are telling me that you are Dochul, no-like, the older version of him? What is this? A time travel movie?”

 _I hope it’s that simple_ , Woosung grumbles to himself but he nods nevertheless, it’s easier to explain a time travel movie than an existential-crisis, alternate universe thing.

“You are!?” Honggi raises his voice, from his voice alone one can easily tell thant he doesn’t believe any little bit of it, “A forty something Lee Dochul finds his way back to his twenty self!?”

“Your mom remarried, you have a younger step-sister whom you neglect but actually care for.”

Watching Honggi’s daring smile turn into an O shape, Woosung waits for the other man to continue but he doesn’t say anything so the list goes on.

“Your goal is to buy a building, you are addicted to gambling, especially in horse racing, you are trying to stop it, all the while running away from the loan sharks that you seriously injured—“

“You can’t know that.” Honggi nearly shouts when his crime is mentioned, “How…? How…? How did you—?”

“You told me one day, in the years from now.”

Woosung never felt like lying so much these days, explaining things to Honggi right now has him lying much more than he ever did in the recent years.

Honggi looks like he can fall butt first on the pavement at any second, he shoots his arm back, trying to stable himself on the sturdy wall behind. 

“Did I make my point?”

He hopes he did, Woosung has searched every corner of his mind for Honggi’s personal information and is now at his wit’s end. He crouches down a little to take a look at Honggi’s face despite his head still aching whenever he angles it like this.

“You fucking did.” Honggi’s face is colorless, he takes in a large gulp of breath before strengthening his body and continues walking. Woosung follows closely, Honggi’s legs are still wobbling, but apart from that he’s doing fine, far better than what he had seen some characters in movies do when they learn the same thing.

 _Just wait until he knows that you played his friend in a movie 20 years ago then, Woosung thinks while following Honggi back to their flat, body swapping is one thing, existential crisis is a whole nother story._

—-

When they reach their room Honggi guides Woosung to the only bed in the room first, his head is getting better though, but it’s a blessing to rest his heavy head on something soft at once.

“Ramyon?” Honggi shakes a pack of ramyon up and down from the kitchen and Woosung nods, he has been hungry since he woke up in the hospital. He tries to get up to help Honggi in the kitchen but the other man just gestures him back to their bed.

_Their bed._

Woosung hasn’t raised this topic in their conversation yet and he dare not to ask. 

Looking around the room looks exactly the same as what their flat in the movie looked like. The director, Kim Samsoo, had asked them both what young men back then had in their rooms. A radio, posters of singers and movie stars, boxes of unloaded belongings, dozens of hangers scattered wild, heaps of clothes here and there, Woosung squints his eyes together when he realizes that he and Jungjae in their 40s can’t survive this kind of chaotic environment at all.

Glued on the wall at the end of the kitchen, he notices the calendar there, it’s September 2000, 2 years since he and Jungjae knew each other, 2 years from the end of their shooting.

September 2000, Jung Woosung was filming Musa, the Warrior far away in China— in another reality.

Lee Jungjae though… the man was busy filming a lot of romantic-comedy movies back then, was it Il Mare? Can it be that he is here too? Or is he in the other parts of the universe, in the same reality where Woosung was training his skill with spear and sword while Jungjae was wandering around in Seoul, pondering about the love he couldn’t reach.

 _Or can it be?_ Woosung opens his eyes to the ceiling, _that there is a universe without them both. No Jung Woosung and no Lee Jungjae, no City of the Rising Sun, the movie industry never heard of these names, no one has thought that they were missing something, someone that never existed before in that universe._

_Like this one._

“Yah, it’s done, come and take it.” Honggi calls out from the kitchen, the smell of old ramyun spreads across the room, old ramyun indeed, this brand stopped producing this flavor not long after this.

“Got it.” He answers and pulls himself off their bed, Honggi hasn’t changed his clothes yet, an orange stain of the noodle soup on his white polo tells him that. Woosung sits down on the mattress across Honggi, taking that Honggi has sat down on the one near the kitchen already, he looks down at his bowl, the noodles are well-cooked, soft and chewy, with little amount of soup down at the bottom of the bowl.

He smirks, and then lets out a little laugh when he hovers over the table to take a look at Honggi’s. Their laziness (which the director has called a huge consideration) is evident there, in these bowls.

“Ya, what are you laughing at?” His voice is defensive, typical of Honggi. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and turns to look for his own chopsticks instead. 

Honggi still stares back at him even when Woosung has started eating, Woosung sighs and shrugs, “Just that you still eat your ramyun like this,” he gestures with his hand to emphasize on the last part, “lots of water.”

Honggi just nods before starting to eat his own, but his face still shows an unsatisfactory expression at Woosung’s explanation. Woosung doesn't have a feeling to tell more anyway, Honggi knows he is not 20 something years old Dochul, that alone is enough for them both.

They continue their brunch in silence, Woosung finishes half of his bowl when Honggi, who already has finished eating the noodle and moves on to the soup instead, asks a question.

“Do I still gambling?”

Woosung swallows whatever is in his mouth down before putting his chopsticks on the table, “Beg your pardon?”

Honggi looks the other way, chewing one corner of his lips nervously, “I asked you.”

Woosung lowers his gaze back to his noodle bowl, he never thought that far—they never thought this far. How Honggi lives his life after smashing the loan shark boss’s head with a vase, how Dochul makes a living with his ‘punchdrunk’ state, how Mimi cut all the ties with them and continue her own journey, there is no answer to all of these questions, they didn’t think about it anymore.

Why would they when their journey together was at the beginning? City of the Rising Sun was where they met, destined by fate and the casting agency, they wrote the path after that by themselves. They have their own story to write, the ending with Dochul and Honggi fighting on the rooftop is an open ended one along with one true fact: as long as the sun will rise the two men will never back down from their dreams, Honggi will become the owner of the buildings, and Dochul will win a championship.

Honggi takes his long silence as an answer, “I still do then…” he whispers bitterly.

“No you don’t.” Woosung blurts out the first lie he can think of, “You stopped when you reached 30 and no - you didn’t cost us arms and legs just to break from gambling entirely. You chose it by yourself.”

Honggi nods at his words, he makes that kind of smile again, the one that is close to a sneer, but Woosung knows perfectly that it shows how much he disdains himself.

“And you?” But Honggi no longer presses for that topic, Honggi hates talking about himself unless it’s something he can brag about, “Do you still box?”

Woosung’s mouth opens on his own, before he closes it, and then opens it again. _A lie, think about a lie, something…_

“Not anymore,” that’s the lie he chose, it’s too abrupt and ‘not anymore’ is the best answer he can come up with. 

“Good to hear that.” Honggi nods then resumes back to eating, leaving Woosung in wonder.

“Come on, why is that?” He presses on, maybe there’s still something more that he doesn’t know. Dochul must still be a boxer, right? Or else there must be another reason for him to be bruised from head to toe like this. “Why is it a good thing then?”

The other man glances at him over his noodle bowl, “Why? Is it not a good thing for you there?”

Woosung feels like wanting to get back in time and tell his and Jungjae’s younger selves that Jo Honggi doesn’t need to be this much of a stubborn son of a bitch. Whose idea was it? Making Honggi averting from question by asking another one back instead.

“Why?” He applies the same strategy then, “It isn’t like I get a black eye every day, right?”

Honggi’s hand that is holding a spoonful of ramyon soup halts mid-air at his question, his eyes gaze downward to the table. He stays like that for seconds before finally putting it in his mouth.

Woosung watches his strange act closely, and suddenly, a weird thought comes across his mind. It’s not weird in a bad way, his eye still hurts like hell but this random thought is amusing to him. Really, he should have guessed it already, why haven’t he noticed it before?

He clears his throat, “You know, it takes a lot more than a good aim and a proper force to give someone a black eye— mine here,” Woosung points his forefinger at the darkened skin, “is not from a fist.”

“Really…?” That’s Honggi’s only response when Woosung doesn’t stop staring at him.

_Think, Jung Woosung, imagine you are talking with Jungjae back in the 90s, you turn to ask him, ‘What is the right question to make Jo Honngi admit his fault?’. Think._

“You did it, didn’t you?”

The spoon falls from his hand to the table, it bounces off the surface and disappears from his sight, down on the floor. 

“You said you come from the future, didn’t you?” Honggi looks to his right while his left hand is groping blindly for the fallen utensil on the floor, “You must remember it.”

 _See_ , Woosung could hear Jungjae’s snicker across the time and the universe, he could see Jungjae sitting beside him and point at the situation before their eyes, _start accusing him of something and he will reveal more than you need._

_Are you sure?_ 25 years old Woosung asked Jungjae again, _aren’t we making him a little bit too easy to read for a conman?_

 _Are we?_ He remembered Jungjae’s thoughtful face, _he is a troubled mind, I think, that’s why he will do anything to cover his faults from those he considers friends, albeit poorly done so._

“Ah, I have forgotten about it already,” Woosung leans back a little, “I can’t remember why and what you have thrown at my face, but I remember that it’s you.”

Honggi abruptly stands up, his leg crashes against the table and sends his soup slouching over the rim of the bowl. His head turns to the kitchen, Honggi is looking at everywhere but him.

“Fuck you, both of you, fucking hell you are so annoying like him. What are you? Aren’t you reaching your 50 already? Do act like one! Ya!! What are you laughing at—”

Woosung can’t stop laughing, his smile was half-way forming already when Honggi started shouting at him. This man, he squeezes his eyes shut though his mouth opens wide, has never changed at all. This Jo Honggi is still a loudmouth, ill tempered, cunning crook he is.

Apart from his heartily laughs, Woosung can hear Honggi grumbles under his breath, “Fuck, what the hell is going on?”

He opens his eyes to see Honggi tousle his short hair exasperatedly before their gazes meet, “What are you smiling at, dumbass?”, the young man asks with a scowl.

Woosung can only shake his head at the question.

“It’s good to see you again, Jo Honggi.”

.


	4. Dochul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dochul’s adventure in modern Seoul features a very anxious Jungjae, a very listless Dochul, one very poor manager, and groups of excited bystanders who witness Jung Woosung being lost in Cheongdamdong.

It takes 30 minutes alone for Dochul to get out of the building, 20 minutes for wandering around in the maze one can call home. A house! Dochul let out long frustrated groans after opening the door to another room, and another room just to find out that there are 2 houses connected. All of the rooms are beautiful, clean and proper, adorned and decorated with tasteful knickknacks he has never seen before. Photos of two men together on top of the drawers affirmed his question.

Them, a couple.

What could he say, Dochul thought when he turned to look at the chamber he woke up into, he had put on the jacket and changed into a pair of sweatpants already because the air hasn’t cooled down a little even though the sun has shone its light long across the room.

It is bigger than his house in the countryside, two rooms, one for cooking and eating and one for sleeping. It is also twice the size of the room he shares with Honggi as well.

Awed and overwhelmed with the vast area of this residence, Dochul came to notice that the owner had left when he couldn’t find him anywhere. He berated himself for not going out sooner with Lee Jungjae-ssi when Dochul managed to open the main door and close it just to realize a second later that he didn’t have anything with him. He looked at the panel above the doorknob puzzledly, it seemed he needed a code to open this door again.

That’s the reason why he had to spend another 5 minutes pushing random number in it, his birthday, Honggi’s birthday, he didn’t know any significant numbers of Jungjae and his boyfriend, after trying the easiest code like 1234567890, Dochul had to admit his defeat and moved on to the elevator.

10 o’clock in the morning and here Dochul is, walking out of the shade of the building into the walkway with sunshine above his head. No wallet, no cellphone (as he had recognized it in the hands of other pedestrians), no recollection of his surroundings, not the place, not the time, or not even the man he is now.

But one thing he does know for sure, is that there must be a flat in Sinsadong, Jo Honggi has to be there, and he can take a break when he finds the other man. What to do with this body and the real owner, Woosung or whatever name he has, they can think about it later. 

Dochul stops at the bus stop, he tries looking around for a direction to his flat but all the panels around him show him nothing. Actually, he has no idea where he is as well, all the buildings here look nothing like the rare skyscrapers he has seen, the buildings near his flat are short and gloomy, even the ones painted with white are bleak and colorless. Now, the concrete jungles before his eyes are fortified with glass and large colored billboards.

 _This doesn’t look like Seoul at all, but you have to move on._

_You need to find Honggi._

“Excuse me,” He takes one step on the bus and calls the driver, “is this bus to Sinsadong?”

The man looks surprised, “Wh-what?”.

“Sinsadong.” Dochul huffs, this man is looking at him as if he were a ghost. “Can this bus take me there?”

The driver blinks twice and points his finger behind, “that way,” he keeps jabbing his forefinger to the way he came before, Dochul angling his head to look at the direction behind and is surprised to see a group of bystanders watching their conversation.

“Thank you, sir.” Dochul nods at the driver. Taking one last glance inside the bus and seeing the surprised looks of those passengers, men and women, old and young, he quickly gets out of the vehicle and quickens his paces. Dochul is never one for attention, and all the people who are staring at him just irk him in the wrong place, it’s fine in a ring, but in a street, it’s not.

The arrow pointing the way to Cheongdamdong shows him that it’s not far from here, Sinsadong is just another side. He keeps on walking along the road, eyes roaming the two sides of the street to see whether there is a detour to his flat or not. He remembers that Honggi has shown him the way through some small alleys to shorten their distance, but here, he reads the road sign nearby, he’s not familiar with the directions in Samsongdong at all.

 _Samsongdong?_ Dochul repeats the name, how weird it is to find himself in the most urban part of the city, he had driven past it once or twice, but that’s all the experience he had with this neighborhood. This Lee Jungjae-ssi must be rich as fuck to own an apartment in Gangnam like this, not only one but two rooms.

Honggi must be jealous, he laughs bitterly, imagining his friend’s face when he hears that another man who looks exactly like him achieved the same dream he always yearns for.

His pace breaks into a run, he can’t dwell on here any longer, Honggi might or might not have left to work yet, Dochul can’t miss him.

“Oh,” Something moving from the front of the shop from his right halts him, Dochul stops, crouching down a little to take a closer look at the picture.

 _So he really is a superstar,_ Dochul smiles at the picture of the older and prettier Honggi, Lee Jungjae-ssi. The older man is standing straight, holding a bottle of wine and smiling proudly at the camera, a smile that Dochul never seen on Honggi’s face even once in his life.

This time he lets out a loud laugh, he giggles to himself, Honggi with this smile? Hell must be frozen over. 

_A pity,_ Dochul’s amused train of thought abruptly stops, Jungjae-ssi looks so beautiful and serene, confident with kindness and joy, those emotions that Honggi must never have felt before.

_Maybe, if Honggi is happy— if he is rich and successful, will he be this confident with kindness and joy too?_

Then the picture changes, making Dochul yelps in surprise and skits backward away from the panel, it’s not just a picture, it’s like a television, a thinner one. Lee Jungjae faded away into the white background and the canvas formed into another man. 

Jung Woosung, a large signature beside his head tells his name.

Dochul stares at his own face in the television, a handsome gentleman is holding the same bottle, sending the audience a charming grin that makes the skin around his mouth and eyes wrinkled, but those lines are nothing against the beauty of him. Dochul clicks his tongue, no wonder why their house is so large, they are both superstars.

Superstars Jo Honggi and Lee Dochul, he clicks his tongue again, just thinking about it makes his mouth spread into a wide grin. They can’t be like them, he thinks as he watches the photo of this Jung Woosung faded into another picture of the two superstars standing beside each other, smiling, enjoying the close proximity between them.

They can’t be like them, he repeats this sentence over in his head, their smiling faces still haunting behind his eyes. Woosung and Jungjae are happy together, just one look at them is evident enough for Dochul. Honggi never smiled like that with him,

And never will.

—-

“What do you mean it’s not here?”

“I’m sorry to tell you that Jung Woosung-ssi,” the man he has been talking to for the past 10 minutes sounds tired enough, “but this is not Moondong flat.”

“I understand that,” Dochul lies though, the building is exactly the same one he and Honggi work their asses off just to pay another month's rent. It looks cleaner and stranger still, damn it he should have known from the change in the surroundings already, “but can you contact a tenant there? His name is Jo Honggi, he works as a bouncer at the nearby club.”

“We have a policy not to disclose our tenant’s information to other people—“

“Room 308, he must have breakfast now, just tell him that Lee Dochul needs to talk to him.”

“What’s wrong over there?” Another man joins the conversation, probably the chief security guard of this building, “Is there any problem sir?”

“Look,” Dochul hates to admit it, but it sounds so good being called ‘sir’, the pure privilege of being a superstar it seems, “I need to know if I can talk to one of the tenants.”

“That’s not a problem at all, ya, why does it take you so long?” The chief turns to berate the poor guard who answers with small voice,

“But he tried to barge inside first, sir.” That he did, Dochul hadn’t noticed the security panel beside the front door.

“Nonsense,” the chief security seems unbothered by the trespassing at all, “tell me their names and I will get you through, Jung Woosung-ssi.”

“Yes, it’s Jo Honggi, room number 308.” 

The man makes a strange face, “Room 308?” Then he elbows the other man in his waist, “Isn’t room 308 mrs.Oh?”

“Sir, he..” the poor security guard still holds on the ‘undisclosed’ policy with all of his strength, “but the rules—”

“And as far as I know,” the chef continues, completely ignoring the uncomfortable man beside him, “there is no Jo Honggi living here.”

“That can’t be.” Dochul cries, “Try Lee Dochul, they rent room 308 together.”

“I’m sorry but it’s time for you to go now, Jung Woosung-ssi, you are blocking the entrance.” The guard tries his best to turn him away, “Sir,” he calls his supervisor, “we can’t let him in.”

“Just call him to me,” the guard is not putting any force at all, Dochul can overpowered him easily with one move, “I will leave but can you just call him to me.”

From the corner of his eyes he sees a group of people nearby forming but Dochul is close, so close, he cranes his head upward to look at the building, 5 floors flat with the total of 40 rooms. This is it, this is the right place, this is Moondong flat.

“There is no Lee Dochul here either, sir.” The chief answers, he begins to show uneasiness expression too, “is there anything else we can do for you now?”

Dochul groans in frustration and finally steps away from the two, he can’t believe it, where is Honggi? He can’t be anywhere else, this is the only place they have, Dochul has no family and the only close friend he has is Honggi…

Another thought springs out from the depth of his mind: Honggi still has a family, a fallen apart one, but a family nevertheless. Can it be that he—? 

Dochul feels his legs give out, he can’t find Honggi, nobody knows about him, and Dochul does anything, everything in his power and yet he still doesn’t know where he is. Honggi is lost. 

He lets out another cry, as loud as he can, a vain attempt in emptying all of his feelings in one go. Dochul is lost, for now the only thing he knows is that he is in Korea’s superstar Jung Woosung’s body, and he is standing in front of ‘Moondong flat’ in Sinsadong— where Jo Honggi should be, where Lee Dochul should be too.

His world turns blank for a while. “I’m sorry,” He breathes it out when he regains his consciousness again, his nostrils are blocked with something wet that smears down his lips and chin, he doesn’t register any picture before his eyes, nor does he with all the noises around his ears, “but do you know where can I meet him?”

By now both guards have taken him into a building, Dochul guesses he must have blanked out somewhere, the men are looking at him with worriedness, there even is a group of people on the other side of the window, all staring at him with some holding their phones up high.

“It’s alright Jung Woosung-ssi, let us call an ambulance first.”

“No, not an ambulance,” the last thing he wants is getting into places where he doesn’t know and by that he means everywhere, “Lee Jungjae, can you contact hi—“

“Lee Jungjae?” The guards turn to look at each other, “how can a guard like me have a celebrity’s contact? Jung Woosung-ssi?”

Dochul guesses it’s all come back to him, all the symptoms he always had after a match. However, this scary truth hurts him as much as a hard punch in his face. his ears go deaf, tuning out all the noises around him, and his eyes will be unfocusing for a long while. He tries to focus his sights when he puts his hand in front of his face, under a dim light, it is covered with blood.

Behind his bloodied hand, the television keeps on showing a video, deep down under the buzzing sound in his head, a strange upbeat music playing loudly, as loud as a radio that is muffled with a cover.

The same music he just heard two days ago in the pub.

Two men walk on the screen, swinging their arms playfully, turning to talk with one another, laughing, smiling.

All of this wouldn’t be strange at all, there are a lot of movies about friendship, boys with big dreams making their ways in the dangerous world of betrayal together. It wouldn’t be strange if Dochul wasn’t watching Honggi wearing the same old colorful ill-fitting tee that he had thrown away a month ago.

With Dochul himself walking beside him to the weird song playing in the background.

The sound of something heavy crashes down on the floor, the sound of his name called in shock follows after, Dochul tries his best to move away from the screen even though his body is lying on the floor already.

“Jung Woosung-ssi, oh no what happens to him again?” 

Dochul didn’t remember much after that, he only knows that the moment his back came in contact with the cold glass door behind, he managed to pull himself up, all the while staring at him and Honggi, that was definitely him and Honggi, that was definitely Honggi sending him his trademarked shit-eating grin. He pushed the door opened then ran out of the building and straight passed the group of onlookers into someone.

“Hyung! What’s happening?” A man shorter than him is blocking his way, his face is blurred but Dochul can hear his concern from his voice alone, “Hyung, your nose!”

“Let me go, I have to go.” Dochul tries to evade the man, he tries to go left but the man doesn’t let him. He is strong, and Dochul tries his best to push him away with all of his force mustered.

“Woosung hyung,” the man pleads, hands holding his arms tightly, “please come to your senses, we need to have your nose checked!”

“Like hell—” Dochul curses, this stranger is freaking persistent, the boxer manages to jerk his right arm out of the tight grip, he brings his fist together, aiming straight at the other man’s unprotected face.

Before his fist can crash upon his target, a loud voice booming not far behind.

**“LEE DOCHUL, STOP WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING.”**

Hearing his real name for the first time since he woke up, Dochul stops dead in the track.

There is a car parking nearby behind the two of them, before his name was called he hadn’t noticed how crowded the bystanders had become, but now with the announcing of a newcomer, more people now flock at the entrance of the building. The owner of the voice is none but Lee Jungjae himself, standing beside the car door with his hand on its edge and brows knitted together.

Lee Jungjae struts to him and the stranger, he has nothing like the man he met in the morning, his hair is combed neatly, he is wearing a shirt and a pair of white jeans. Though a pair of sunglasses hides his eyes from view, the rest of his face perfectly shows the expression of someone who is near his limit.

“Get inside the car, we can talk later in there.” 

That’s the only thing Jungjae says to him before making his way to the poor security guards, ignoring the voices gossiping around him left and right. It’s not everyday that there is a superstar in this neighborhood, not only one but two.

The stranger pulls at his sleeve, “hyung…” he sounds so unsure of Dochul, “please get into the car, Jungjae hyung will be back soon.”

It annoys him as well, having to rely only on Lee Jungjae in this strange world, but Dochul has no one to turn to, no one but the first man he woke up to.

—-

They changed the car somewhere on the way back, the stranger dropped them at the parking lot inside the building. They spent their ride in almost silence, the stranger whom he later learned that he was Jung Woosung’s manager, Hyukjae, kept looking at him in the backseat from time to time as he drove. Hyukjae didn’t speak a word, the only sound inside the car came from Lee Jungjae, who started another phone call as soon as the last one ended, the awkward atmosphere came to the end when they had to move to another car.

“Thank you so much, Hyukjae,” Dochul has been ushered into the seat next to the driver’s when Jungjae turns to talk with Woosung’s manager, “I will message you later.”

Hyukjae the manager glances at him for a second, “Will he be alright?”.

“He will,” Jungjae assures him with a pat on his back, “I’m so sorry, it’s gonna be a difficult week for you.”

“The people will be worried, but as long as we issue the statement first it won’t spread wide into a scandal.”

 _A scandal, Dochul huffs,_ he can’t bear the sight of them both anymore, he rests his head on the window and breathes out a long sigh. 

A door opened and Lee Jungjae sits down on the driver seat, the loud rumble of the engine rings across the empty parking lot, Dochul cranes his head back to look at Hyukjae getting inside the office. He then takes a look at the driver, Jungjae still has his sunglasses on, his mouth as thin as a straight line.

He turns his head back, watching the view of the road instead, “Still mad?”

“You are going back at my place,” Lee Jungjae’s voice is deep and authoritative, the kind of voice that leaves no room for any objection. Nevertheless Dochul snickers at his words.

“I guess you still are,” he grimaces, “judging by the way you ignore my question.”

“Dochul-ah.” Jungjae turns to look at him and Dochul clicks his mouth shut at that instant, “if you will listen to me, I will tell you what is happening right now, and Honggi too.”

Hearing the mention of the name he keeps looking for for the first time in this strange land, Dochul suddenly feels like a mountain of fear and worry is taken away from him. He slouched down on the seat, his mind still full of thousands of questions, but with Lee Jungjae saying those things to him, Lee Dochul finally feels like closing his eyes to take a short rest for a while at last.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if Seoul's public transportation system has been using the card payment since the 90s, like you know, the scene in k-dramas where the characters get on a bus and touches their cards on some machine and voila, the ticket is paid XD. I guess Dochul knows that too so he opts for walking instead when he realizes he doesn’t have a wallet with him.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, it has been a long time since the last update, thank you so much my readers <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 *throw a lot of mini hearts at you*


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